Tag Archives: forgiving yourself after divorce

Beauty, Forgiveness in Letting Go, Finally

lantern

I published this post originally in September 2011—a year and a half ago. I learned today, however, that my divorce is final. While I’ve been raising two boys solo for nearly four years now, I’m surprised by how emotional, yet surreal, this final parting, delivered unceremoniously via a curt email, feels. There are just no words to accurately describe it—even for someone like me. So with that said, I’m re-posting this post “Beauty, Forgiveness in Letting Go.” I let go of my imagery paper lantern tonight, to sail across the ocean to my ex, my former best friend, the father of our beautiful boys, with just two words inside: “Thank You.”

***

I can’t stop thinking about The New York Times article “Untying the Knot in Japan” by Paige Ferrari. In fact, ever since reading the article that outlines this new Japanese trend of divorce ceremonies, I can’t stop the steady stream of images from daydreams, clearly inspired by this idea. Obviously, I crave closure. One snippet of my dream keeps popping into my mind—like disjointed, still frame, romantic images. I even sent a message to my soon-to-be Ex about wanting to have a divorce ceremony. Not surprisingly, he didn’t reply.

Perhaps I’ll just have one on my own. Before reading this article, I had thought (once the divorce was final) I’d invite a friend or two to come with me as I throw my wedding band off the end of one of the Southern California piers into the Pacific Ocean. I imagined I’d say a few things before the toss about mixed blessings; becoming stronger; putting my sons first; or living a better life. But now I see what I really want is a ceremony that would honor the 12 years my husband and I spent together. I’d love a ceremony that is like a symbolic blessing to us both—releasing us to move on and inspiring us to be respectful of one another for the sake of our boys.

In Ferrari’s article, a divorce ceremony is outlined where both the ex-husband and ex-wife come together, say a few words in front of a witness, and then both use a hammer to crush their wedding bands. It’s a somber occasion, but one that respects their former union, blesses the two to move on, and confirms the importance of their child’s health and happiness. More ex-couples would benefit from a ceremony such as this, don’t you think? Since I’ll likely never have one with my Ex who lives in London, I will dream of one that allows me to let go and continue on with beauty and hope.

In my recurring dream, a paper lantern floats wobbly in a river—the candle light inside flickering in and out through a heavy layer of fog. It moves with fragility in the water and I am compelled to reach out to it. I have been waiting for it alone on a dock and I stretch to reach it, but can not. I am frightened that the light will burn out, so I stretch my body along the scratchy wood planks of the dock, my upper torso dangling precariously over the water. Finally one long finger touches the side of the lantern and I pull it towards me. I lift it up and put my wedding ring inside. I let myself think for a moment about the beauty of our wedding, the sweetness of our love that day, and the hope we both once had. Inside the other crease of the lantern, I place two folded pieces of paper with messages to my soon-to-be ex-husband.

“Don’t forget your boys,” is written on one note.

“I forgive you,” on the other.

I visualize all the hurt and pain that I have felt over the past two years as a smoke rising from a flame. The wind lifts it up in the crisp night air and allows it to combine with the fog. I place the paper lantern with my ring and messages back into the river and push it gently into the current.

As I watch it drift away, I let go of all anger and bitterness.

I close my eyes, envision my beautiful boys, and allow myself to feel blessed in this parting.

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Permission to Feel Again

“Like the tiny spark of fire that consumes a forest, the spark of love is all you need to experience love in its full power and glory, in all its aspects, earthly and divine.”
Deepak Chopra

Experts like Deepak Chopra often tell us that “living in the present moment is what best serves us.” In fact, I received an email today on that topic from his website. I think it is a wise sentiment, but one that can be truly hard for women going through divorce (or for anyone whose “present moment” is far from peaceful.) For women experiencing separation or a contentious divorce, it can be extremely hard to live in the moment—AND for it to be healthy—when one is living in fear. So many of my friends and readers who are going through a divorce know just what I mean. There is financial fear. There is emotional fear. There is fear of litigation. There may be nasty text messages or phone messages or child custody issues. There may be moments of dread and longing and regret and guilt—so much so—that you may get temporarily consumed with thoughts about mistakes from the past, or future moments for your children. All of these feelings are okay, and perhaps do need to be felt. And yet, they can keep us apart from our every-day lives. They keep us from making good decisions. They can consume us. They can keep us from enjoying the moment, our surroundings, our friends, our children, our community.

And with all that going on in our minds, how then, can we possibly allow ourselves to open up, be vulnerable, and to feel again? How does it allow for spontaneity or making new friends? How can we begin to love ourselves again?

I discovered this ancient temple outside Cortona, Italy the other week, on a day when fear was bubbling up again as I thought about my boys back in the States and pending issues with my divorce. As I snapped pictures of this basilica, I saw how weathered, yet proud it seemed—how elegant and timeless. I decided that each one of us going through hard times such as a divorce needs to remember that we are elegant and timeless. We need to be less hard on ourselves, less judgmental, less critical. We need to forgive ourselves. We need to be okay with not being perfect.

Meditation helps tremendously for those who become a bit panic-ridden or consumed with fear. As ironic as it seems, letting go of all of our fears for a few minutes—just breathing and thinking of nothing but our breath—helps to let go of the pain and just be.

I’ve been meditating almost every day while I’ve been in Italy. I breathe deeply, let go of any guilt or fear and just observe what I am feeling. It’s so nice to be allowed your feelings. There is nothing wrong with being angry or sad or unsure.

Italians are certainly not people to hold in their feelings. As I walk around our village I hear loud discussions over card games or dinner. I hear much laughter. I also sometimes hear yelling, but luckily, it doesn’t last long. I see couples that kiss very passionately without any qualms or embarrassment. I see women holding hands, men kiss hello and children who run and hug each other. It’s nice to be among people who feel deeply and whose culture embraces that.

If you are feeling overwhelmed with fears that are consuming you as your embark on your divorce, I encourage you to meditate. If you can, sign up for the Chopra 21-day meditation challenge. http://www.chopracentermeditation.com/

If that is too much for you, give yourself five minutes to just breathe. Don’t think about anything other than listening to your heart. It will awaken again some day. You will get over your pain and your sorrow. You will forgive yourself. You will let go of the criticisms thrust upon you. You will trust someone again, some day. Just listen to your heart and breathe deeply with each thought. Set an intention for your day. Today, mine is to listen. I will listen to myself and to others.

Have a wonderful day my friends. Tomorrow I am off to Naples in the search of the world’s best pizza. Food, is my new passion. Stay tuned! 🙂

Beauty, Forgiveness in Letting Go

I can’t stop thinking about The New York Times article “Untying the Knot in Japan” by Paige Ferrari. In fact, ever since reading the article that outlines this new Japanese trend of divorce ceremonies, I can’t stop the steady stream of images from daydreams, clearly inspired by this idea. Obviously, I crave closure. One snippet of my dream keeps popping into my mind—like disjointed, still frame, romantic images. I even sent a message to my soon-to-be Ex about wanting to have a divorce ceremony. Not surprisingly, he didn’t reply.

Perhaps I’ll just have one on my own. Before reading this article, I had thought (once the divorce was final) I’d invite a friend or two to come with me as I throw my wedding band off the end of one of the Southern California piers into the Pacific Ocean. I imagined I’d say a few things before the toss about mixed blessings; becoming stronger; putting my sons first; or living a better life. But now I see what I really want is a ceremony that would honor the 12 years my husband and I spent together. I’d love a ceremony that is like a symbolic blessing to us both—releasing us to move on and inspiring us to be respectful of one another for the sake of our boys.

In Ferrari’s article, a divorce ceremony is outlined where both the ex-husband and ex-wife come together, say a few words in front of a witness, and then both use a hammer to crush their wedding bands. It’s a somber occasion, but one that respects their former union, blesses the two to move on, and confirms the importance of their child’s health and happiness. More ex-couples would benefit from a ceremony such as this, don’t you think? Since I’ll likely never have one with my Ex who lives in London, I will dream of one that allows me to let go and continue on with beauty and hope.

In my recurring dream, a paper lantern floats wobbly in a river—the candle light inside flickering in and out through a heavy layer of fog. It moves with fragility in the water and I am compelled to reach out to it. I have been waiting for it alone on a dock and I stretch to reach it, but can not. I am frightened that the light will burn out, so I stretch my body along the scratchy wood planks of the dock, my upper torso dangling precariously over the water. Finally one long finger touches the side of the lantern and I pull it towards me. I lift it up and put my wedding ring inside. I let myself think for a moment about the beauty of our wedding, the sweetness of our love that day, and the hope we both once had. Inside the other crease of the lantern, I place two folded pieces of paper with messages to my soon-to-be ex-husband.

“Don’t forget your boys,” is written on one note.

“I forgive you,” on the other.

I visualize all the hurt and pain that I have felt over the past two years as a smoke rising from a flame. The wind lifts it up in the crisp night air and allows it to combine with the fog. I place the paper lantern with my ring and messages back into the river and push it gently into the current.

As I watch it drift away, I let go of all anger and bitterness.

I close my eyes, envision my beautiful boys, and allow myself to feel blessed in this parting.